


Group Project

by bestworstperson



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bottom Hannibal Lecter, Dom Will Graham, Enemies to Lovers, Hate Sex, I didn't and won't proofread or beta this, Library Sex, M/M, Sub Hannibal Lecter, Top Will Graham, dom/sub tendencies, stacks on stack on stacks, this is literally my other fic just in a library because I have exactly one beat, yes i know two is not technically a group
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-01-14 21:27:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18484705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bestworstperson/pseuds/bestworstperson
Summary: Will and Hannibal hate each other but have no choice to work together. Surely they can figure something out.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Scully1010](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scully1010/gifts).



“A group project, can you believe that?! Group projects are nothing more than transparent wastes of time assigned by professors too lazy or dull-witted to challenge themselves by properly assessing the academic rigor of their more advanced students and, thus, wield what small, insignificant power they hold to force the more hardworking and dedicated among us to boost the paltry grade point averages of the slack-jawed, infantile dunces we’re forced to cohabitate with all because daddy bought a new wing of the library. And to be partnered with _him_ no less. Dr. Chilton’s always been arrogant but even for him, this is absurd. Forcing us to work together. It’s pathetic.” 

“Are you done?” Alana intoned, feet propped up on the study room table.

As usual, she wasn’t actually listening, but who could blame her? Hannibal was in one of his moods and when he got like this it was typically easiest to just let him go until he’d exhausted himself. But this time he’d been bitching for 10 minutes straight and Alana was over it.

“Will Graham. I can’t believe I have to stoop to his level -”

“And I can’t believe we ever dated,” Alana said, cutting him off. “But we both have to make peace with our inner demons. Let’s go, I’m hungry.”

“Did you suddenly learn how to cook?” Hannibal asked, casting a skeptical glance Alana’s way.

“No, I did not. You’re going to cook. I want osso bucco.”

“Rather pretentious for a Tuesday."

“Yes, but I love you anyway,” Alana said while she tossed her laptop into her bag.

* * *

Will walked into his apartment and slammed the door behind him. Zeller looked up from the couch. “Problem?”

“No,” Will said tersely, crossing the room to sit down next to Zeller.

“Sure, so the money to fix the damage to the door frame will come out of your deposit then?”

“I’m fine.” Will was staring straight ahead, lips in a tight line. He was fidgeting, anger and annoyance manifesting as nervous energy.

“Mmm.” Zeller cast a narrow-eyed look at Will. “Right. Well. If you want to talk about whatever...this...is I’ll be in my room.”

Zeller was halfway down the hallway when Will shouted, “He’s just so pompous!”

“Sorry, who are we talking about?” Zeller turned on his heels. "I just want to make sure I’m channeling the appropriate amount of rage.”

“Hannibal! He’s always lecturing someone about god knows what and he talks SO much.”

“He seems-,” Zeller tried to interject.

“He plays the theremin. Who the hell plays the theremin? And seriously have you ever noticed how much he talks? It’s excruciating. I can’t stand him.” By this point Will had started pacing the room, gesticulating wildly with his hands.

“Excruciating or exhilarating?” Zeller asks, cocking an eyebrow at Will.

“What?”

“I’m just saying! You seem to know a lot about this man you find so ‘excruciating’ and I doubt his skills on the theremin are particularly relevant in determining a research methodology...so either you’re gravely underselling how obnoxious he is or you’ve been paying attention.” Zeller had a smug look on his face.  
  
“I...can’t stand you,” Will said, retreating to his bedroom.

* * *

Will and Hannibal met in the library on Wednesday evening. They didn’t like this but neither one of them were going to put their GPAs at risk, so they swallowed their respective pride and sat across from each other in a room on the fourth floor of the library, a floor chosen specifically for its relative emptiness. They were considerate enough to try and avoid having a screaming matching in front of a packed floor of witnesses. Yes, floor 4, room A, situated deep in the stacks between divisions 306 and 307, would do nicely.

“William. Would you be so kind as to stop tapping your pen incessantly on the table?”

“Will."

“I beg your pardon?”

“It’s Will. Not William. Will.”

“Right then. So we’ll replicate Mischel, Ebbesen and, Zeiss’ study on cognitive mechanisms in delayed gratification,” Hannibal said.  
  
“You do understand that the word _group_ implies we should come to a mutual decision on what the project should be?” Will replied without looking up from his textbook.

“Thank you for the vocabulary lesson, William, always a privilege to watch your mind at work.” The air in the room was thick with tension.

Will exhaled sharply.

“Something wrong?” Hannibal asked, condescension sitting comfortably in his voice.

Will looked up at Hannibal. His gaze was harsh and challenging.  “Not at all. You?”  
  
“I’m quite alright, thank you.”

“Are you always so…” Will was at a loss for words. He was pissed.

“So??”

Will sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. “You know, this doesn’t have to be as difficult as you’re making it. It’s one assignment. We don’t have to engage with each other after again after this, is it really so hard to take it seriously?”

“I am taking this seriously. I’d appreciate it if you’d do the same."

This project was going to kill them.

* * *

 

“Are you trying to piss me off? You are actively choosing to make this harder than it needs to be.”

Will was shouting in the library.

* * *

 “So it’s going well,” Zeller asked after the third day in a row Will came home reeking of whiskey. Will never drank unless he was pissed off.

“Fuck you.”

“I’m just saying that maybe doing something you hate can be good for you. There are a lot of studies that-”

“Your boyfriend tell you that?” Will was irritable and taking it out Brian.

He knew it wasn’t fair but he and Hannibal had been holed up in the library for a solid week and they’d yet to make any real progress. When they weren’t rejecting each other’s ideas on principle, they were flat out ignoring each other. They’d yet to nail down a thesis for the assignment and hadn’t so much as considered what shape the presentation would take. Instead, they’d spent the past week berating each other in a study room. It was a miracle they were still allowed to reserve a room at all, though the librarian’s face whenever Will picked up the key indicated that, were it up to her, he’d be banned from even approaching the circulation desk.

* * *

 “You’re impossible!” Will said. “We’ve wasted two weeks on this assignment and have yet to even determine a topic. Is this a game to you? “Oh Will Graham. Wind him up and watch him go!”

“William, I -”

Standing up and slamming his hands on the table Will started yelling.  “STOP calling me William! My name is Will. You call me Will. That’s it.”  
  
“I just -”

“Just what? Just thought you could waste my time? Just come here every day and then suddenly we’d miraculously have a finished project? I’ve had it. I’m done. I can do this myself.”  
  
“Pardon?” Hannibal tried to hide the shock in his voice.

“I can handle this on my own. You refuse to cooperate and I’m not going to fight you anymore. I’ll send you the presentation when it’s done and let you know which slides are your responsibility.”

Hannibal opened his mouth to speak but was at a loss. He hadn’t expected Will to shut him down like that. Sure, they’d been fighting for weeks at this point but a complete exile was unexpected. Hannibal wanted to put up a fight, tell Will he couldn’t make these choices on his own and deny him any input. Let him know he wouldn’t just blindly obey his every command. But instead, he just asked, “Is there anything I can do in the interim?

“No. I’ll contact you if I need you.” Will’s voice was cold. “You can go now.”

And to Hannibal’s own shock, he actually got up and left.

* * *

 The next day when Will asked for the study room key he was told it’d already been claimed. He let out a sharp breath and climbed the stairs to the fourth floor.  

“What are you doing here? I said I’d call if needed,” Will said.

  
Hannibal was flipping through a psychology textbook. He didn’t bother looking up. “I figured you could use me.”

* * *

 It was frustratingly quiet.

Will thought he’d appreciate the silence but now he was just annoyed. Hannibal kept looking at him, he could sense it, and Will had half a mind to call him on it. Ask him what the fuck was his problem, find out why he showed up after being explicitly told not to. Will figured Hannibal would have jumped at the chance to get away from him but maybe he was just that committed to being an asshole.

* * *

 Another week had gone by and Hannibal was still showing up. Will tried reserving the study room for a different time, but between his classes, work, and everything else going on his schedule wouldn’t allow it. So here they both were. In this godforsaken study room. Again.

At least they had a topic now. In the end Will took Hannibal’s suggestion of replicating the delayed gratification study. It was the only one they even came close to agreeing on and Will could apply the same research to his thesis.

Hannibal shifted uncomfortably in his seat and cleared his throat. “Will.”

“What.” It wasn’t a question.

“Is there...anything I can help you with?” Hannibal sounded hesitant.

Will stopped typing and looked up from his laptop; Hannibal was staring at him. “Is there anything you can help me with?” Will was confused given that Hannibal didn’t exactly strike him as obedient. Sure he’d listened when Will said he could complete the project on his own, but he was still showing up to the library everyday wasn’t he? He didn’t talk, just sat quietly but it still felt like defiance.

“We need another source,” Will spoke slowly, cautiously. He wasn’t certain this wasn’t some trap Hannibal was trying to bait him into. “I was thinking of Fischbach and Trope’s paper on counteractive self-control. I think it’s in the seventy-ninth volume of the _Journal of Personality & Social Psychology _. Can you get it for me?”

“Certainly.” Hannibal stood up and straightened his jacket before leaving to go find the journal.

Maybe he was more obedient than Will thought.

* * *

 That entire week Hannibal was different. He did what Will asked without protest. It was...enticing. Will found himself asking Hannibal to complete increasingly unnecessary tasks just to see what he’d do. Coffee Will requested sat undrank on the table for hours. Papers Will had no use for were copied and immediately thrown in the bin. Every time Will would say Hannibal’s name, he’d straighten up in his chair, waiting for his orders. Will couldn’t understand Hannibal’s motivations so one day he decided to find out.

“Hannibal?”  
  
“Yes, Will.” Without needing to look up from his laptop Will noticed him sit up a bit straighter. He smiled slightly to himself and continued.

“Do you enjoy this...arrangement?”

Hannibal cocked his head to the side, slightly. “I’m afraid I’m not quite sure what you mean.”

“We hate each other. Our relationship prior to this was outright hostile. Some may go as far as to call us rivals. And if you’ll recall, we spent weeks in this very room screaming condescension at each other. However, since I kicked you off the project you’ve been very amenable. You seem to enjoy a certain level of, shall we say, submission.” Will looked up then and held Hannibal’s gaze.

“Yes. Well. I suppose that is true. I seem to have developed a certain level of...compassion for you, which is rather inconvenient, if I may be frank with you.”

Hannibal wasn’t backing down.

“I see. Your honesty is appreciated but unexpected.” They were still maintaining eye contact like it was a game of chicken. Will didn’t intend to lose.

“Lying in this instance felt unnecessary.” Hannibal didn’t intend to lose either.

“I see.” Will sat back in his chair. He finally broke eye contact but instead of looking away, he let his eyes roam over Hannibal’s body slowly, hungrily. It was a bit of a show, sure, but Will never minded a little performance. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Hannibal.”

“Of course, Will.” And without needing to be told, Hannibal got up and left.

* * *

 When Will made it to the library Hannibal was already in their room waiting. As usual he was sitting quietly waiting for Will to need another book or cup of coffee he wouldn’t drink. Will sat down across from him but didn’t open his bag. Hannibal was looking out the window, making a point to ignore him. When Will said Hannibal’s name with the slight inflection at the end he’d come to perfect Will thought he noticed the smallest shudder run through Hannibal’s body.

“Yes, Will.”

I need a book. _Statistical Principles in Experimental Design._ Winer. Go find it.”

“Of course.” Hannibal stood at once and retreated to the stacks.

Will followed shortly.

* * *

 Hannibal was scanning the shelves. Walker...Wild...Willem...

Will moved slowly and silently down the aisle. He stood close, but not too close, and waited. Finally Hannibal found the book he was looking for and grabbed it. When he turned around to see Will standing behind him, he jumped and made a sharp intake of breath. Will smirked and looked up at him.

“You know the conclusion to the delayed gratification study, don’t you?” Will asked, his voice deep and suspiciously low, even for a library.

“That you must consider the determinants of the choice to delay gratification for the sake of more preferred outcomes.” Hannibal’s breath was shaky.

“Right.” Will stepped closer and pressed their bodies together, running a hand up Hannibal’s thigh while he spoke. “But moreso, that once you choose to delay gratification, the effectiveness of delaying is dependent on the right distractions. A subject can wait almost indefinitely if they believe they really will receive a larger outcome if they properly occupy their mind while they await reward. Do you have the proper distractions, Hannibal?”

“I believe so.”

“Good.” Will locked eyes with Hannibal and let his right hand brush ever so slightly over Hannibal’s crotch. Hannibal sucked in a breath. Will added more pressure, not so much to get him hard, but enough to be frustrating. Hannibal let his head fall back and come to rest on the shelf behind him. He was trying to remain calm and focused. Will was testing him. 

“Look at me, Hannibal.” Will’s right hand was still rubbing at his crotch, but his left had come to rest on his chin. His grip was gentle but controlled. “I’m busy tomorrow. We’ll regroup on Wednesday. Sound good?”

It wasn’t actually a question because as soon as Will asked it, he let go of Hannibal and walked out of the aisle without saying another word.

Hannibal took a deep breath to regain his composure before walking back to the study room, but by the time he got there, Will was already gone.

* * *

 Wednesday came and Hannibal was running late, which was unlike him. By the time he made it to the library Will’s annoyance was clear. He stepped into the study room, but before he could explain himself Will snapped at him.

“I see you’re back to wasting my time.”

“My apologies, I -”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Will said sharply. His tone was cold and biting. The same one he used during their explosive fights before Hannibal was demoted to errand boy.

“Yes, I forgot you preferred insolence,” Hannibal replied, annoyance clear in his voice. This change pissed him off. Will didn’t get to spend a week goading and flirting with him and then throw it back in his face like this. They still hated each other, sure, but flirting was flirting.

Will scoffed and cast a sidelong look at Hannibal as he moved to sit down. “Let’s just get to work.”

“Oh am I allowed to participate now? Or do you just what to send me off to find some obscure journal article you’ll reference in exactly one line of the paper.” Hannibal’s voice was rising in volume. “Or perhaps another coffee you’ll toss, completely full, into the garbage? Or maybe you can lurk behind me and while I search for a text you have no use for at all?” He continued, louder still, “Any of those sound like what you need? Or have you evolved to outright mockery?”

“Lower your voice, Hannibal.”

“No. I think I’m quite over this little game of yours.” Hannibal was practically yelling. He stood to leave.

“Sit down.”

“I said I was done.”  
  
“SIT.” Will stood now, too. He tried to make himself as imposing as possible, like the first time he’d truly snapped at Hannibal.

Hannibal ignored him and moved to open the study room door, but Will was faster and Hannibal could barely crack open the door before Will’s hand slammed it shut. Their bodies were perpendicular to one another and Will’s voice was almost menacing when he said, “I’m not asking. I’m telling.”

He was still flirting. Hannibal thought his tardiness had been a tactical error, instead, it was one of the best moves he’d played so far. This was a game of chess, eventually, one of them was going to checkmate. Hannibal turned his head slowly to face Will’s; he’d delayed gratification long enough.

Hannibal grabbed Will by the shirt collar and pulled him into a harsh, deep kiss. If Will was shocked by the move, he didn’t show it, pulling back slightly to catch Hannibal’s bottom lip between his teeth. The bite was a bit harder than Hannibal would have preferred, but he wasn’t about to put a stop this...whatever this was.

Will broke their kiss and backed away from Hannibal. His composure was frustratingly calm among Hannibal’s breathlessness. “Are you going to listen to me now?”

“Yes, sir.”  Hannibal hadn’t expected to say that and based on the slight shock that lit up Will’s face, neither had he.

“Good boy. Now sit down.”

Hannibal obeyed and took a seat. “No. No. Face me.”

Hannibal stood and turned his chair so he faced Will head on. Will slowly ran his eyes over Hannibal’s body while he made a show of rolling up the sleeves of shirt to the elbows. He cracked his knuckles a few times while he walked towards Hannibal. Will straddled his legs and looked down at Hannibal who was refusing to make eye contact. Will reached out a hand to lift Hannibal’s chin and ran his thumb along Hannibal’s bottom lip. “Nervous?”

Hannibal swallowed the lump in his throat. “Not at all.”

“You seem distracted. Unfocused.” Will unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. Hannibal’s pupils dilated at the sight. They followed Will’s hand as he began a slow deliberate stroke.

“Do you want me to fuck you, Hannibal?” Will backed up as talked, giving Hannibal and unobstructed view of his actions.

“Here?”

“Would you prefer the third floor,” Will asked, eyebrows raised.

“It’s just that this is rather...public.” There was the slightest bit of nervousness in Hannibal’s voice.

“You always struck me as someone who loved a bit of a performance. Am I wrong?”

Will was still stroking his cock. Hannibal wasn’t listening.

“Answer me.” Will’s voice was lower. The menacing tone was back. It set Hannibal on fire.

“No-no, sir, you’re not wrong.”

“Take your cock out. If you want to perform...then perform.”

Hannibal’s hand were shaking as he unzipped his pants. He was usually more composed than this, but something about Will...like this...put him on edge. He should hate this, they both should. Just days ago, hell minutes, they were shouting at each other. And someone slamming a door in his face or barring him from leaving when wanted was grounds for retaliation. Hannibal didn’t want to enjoy this. Didn’t want to listen. But he locked eyes with Will as he stroked his own cock. Will was still lazily stroking himself. “You didn’t answer my question. Do you want me to fuck you, Hannibal?”

“I think I’d like that very much.”

Will took two broad steps and pulled Hannibal up into a bruising kiss. Hannibal gripped Will’s forearms tightly when Will reached down to grasp his cock. The kiss isn’t gentle, even now, this far in they were still fighting. When Will breaks the kiss both of their breathing is ragged but before Hannibal can catch his breath Will turns him around so quickly he has to steady himself on the chair in front of him.

Will pulled their bodies flush against each other. They were still fully clothed but this somehow felt more obscene than had they been completely naked. The friction Hannibal’s pants caused was almost enough to put Will over the edge. Will wrapped a hand, possessively, around Hannibal’s neck forcing his head to fall backwards onto Will’s shoulder. Will slid his hand up to brush his fingers over Hannibal’s mouth. Hannibal saw an opening and took it, sucking two of Will’s fingers into his mouth, while he unbuttoned his pants and slid them down his legs.

If Will wanted a performance he’d get one.

Will pulled his fingers from Hannibal’s mouth and ran a hand, appreciatively, over his ass before shoving Hannibal’s pants down his thighs and slipping two fingers inside. Hannibal gasped loudly at the sudden intrusion. “Shh. I’ve got you,” Will whispered in his ear.

Hannibal was completely unprepared for the sensation. Will was controlling and dominating. It was unexpected and god Hannibal wanted more. A moan slipped through Hannibal’s lips and he arched into the body behind him, pushing back on Will’s hand trying to force his fingers deeper. Will’s fingers stilled inside him.

“Eager, are we?” Will couldn’t hide the amusement in his voice. Hannibal’s desperation was intoxicating.

“Please.” Hannibal’s voice was barely audible.

“Sorry, what was that?”

Hannibal let out a shaky breath. Will’s fingers hadn’t moved and they were resting on that spot inside that threatened to send Hannibal over the edge.

“Please. Sir.”

“Good boy.”

Will removed his fingers and Hannibal heard the sounds of Will’s belt buckle unhooking. Hannibal was unprepared when, in one swift movement, Will inserted his length fully. Hannibal pitched forward and grabbed for the chair in front of him.

“Tell me what you want.” Will’s voice was thick with desire. Hannibal already felt like he was right on the edge. He knows he won’t last long, but if he comes without Will moving at all he’s not sure his dignity would ever recover. This whole situation was already a lot for both of them, though neither of them would dare admit that out loud, and they were both attempting to save what little face remained between the two of them.

Hannibal tried to focus on the question but his mind was whiting out with desire. Will rutted into Hannibal. The smallest of movements but an encouragement nonetheless. “Hannibal. Tell me what you want. _Now._ ”

“Fast. Please. I won’t last long, Will, just...please.”

Begging. Neither one of them were expecting that.

Will’s right hand once again came to rest around Hannibal’s throat, while his left settled comfortably on Hannibal’s hip.

Will moved fast and deep, setting an almost punishing pace. They were loud, Will was sure. The obscene sounds echoed through the small study room. Anyone nearby would undoubtedly have heard the noise carrying through the library’s thin walls.

Will tightened his grip on Hannibal’s throat and pulled their bodies flush against each other. This change in position meant Will barely had to pull out before slamming back into Hannibal. Hannibal was so close. His whole body felt like it was on fire and when Will nipped at one of Hannibal’s earlobes, he was done. His orgasm was intense and he momentarily realized they were in the library and would somehow have to clean all this up but those thoughts were quickly pushed from his mind. Will was unrelenting. Hannibal was overstimulated as Will fucked through his aftershocks. On one final thrust, Will came too panting hotly into Hannibal’s ear.

Will didn’t pull out until their breathing had slowed. Hannibal was still in a haze as Will calmly and quietly got dressed. Will picked up his bag and Hannibal turned around to face him, still a half-naked mess. Will ran his thumb along Hannibal’s jawline, while his eyes roamed over his face. Hannibal’s eyes fluttered closed as he fisted Will’s shirt with both hands as he leaned in for a kiss. Will leaned closer but pulled back at the last second.

“Don’t forget to clean up. I’ll see you tomorrow, Hannibal.”

“Yes, sir,” he said quietly as Will walked through the door.


	2. Chapter 2

They weren’t talking. Or rather, hadn’t talked. It had been a month since the project. The shouting. The library. 

The sex. 

It had happened twice. The first time was hot and intense. Passionate, though neither one of them would use that word. Hannibal had let himself lose control and Will relished it. It was somehow uncomplicated despite every single part of their relationship thus far indicating that it should be. 

Well, it  _ had  _ been uncomplicated. The next day they’d gone back to the library to actually, finally finish their project and it was a return to form. The yelling. The bickering. The throwing of papers and, in the case of a dented trash can Will kicked during an extended streak of expletives and insults, the destruction of university property. The rest of the evening had given both of them time to think through what they’d done and replay it on a loop in their brains. 

Hannibal was embarrassed, a feeling he’d foolishly expressed to Alana. 

“Oh my GOD. YOU FUCKED HIM THE LIBRARY!” Alana was laughing.   

“Just thrilled you find this hilarious, but could you be so kind as to keep your voice down? I don’t think the baristas need to know the details of my sexual exploits.” 

“This is amazing. Will Graham. Yeah...I’d worship at that altar. Who knew you had it in you?” Alana responded. She was impressed. 

“There’s no need to sound quite so shocked.” 

“Are you serious? Hannibal, you’re wearing a three-piece suit. Right now. In a  _ Starbucks.  _ You’re not exactly known for letting loose or relinquishing control.” 

“Yes. Well.” Hannibal shifted uncomfortably in his seat and thumbed the lid of his coffee cup distractedly. 

“Hold on,” Alana narrowed her eyes at him. 

“Stop.” 

“NO.”

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll say nothing further.” 

“Hannibal Lecter likes to be bossed around in bed. Who knew?” 

“Right. I’m leaving now.” Hannibal got up from the worn leather chairs they’d been sitting in and made for the door. Alana wasn’t far behind. 

“Oh come on! You're being ridiculous! You fucked, once. You’re acting like it’s the end of the world just because you liked being bossed around a bit and, if I had to guess, he’s...well he’s probably acting like he always does. Have you ever noticed how he-” 

“Yes, Alana. We’ve all taken the same psychiatry courses.” 

Hannibal left out the details. Their conversation about their “arrangement.” About Hannibal’s admitted compassion for Will. About the teasing, god the teasing. The taunting. They’d both shown their hand, but Hannibal was the only one who’d lost. Will seemed largely unfazed and returned to how'd they'd been with practiced ease. The very next day he was once again critiquing Hannibal but this time his voice lacked the flirtatious edge it carried before. Were they still playing a game or did Will truly see him as disposable? Hannibal was reeling from it all. He’d been undone by this man, in more ways than one, and he wanted nothing more than for it to happen again. Alana was right. Will was an altar and, goddammit, he was going to kneel before it. 

* * *

 

Will stood under the showerhead, his forehead pressed against the tile. The too-hot water rolled over his shoulders and down his back and Will felt the tension leave his body in waves. He’d tried not to think about what had transpired and instead locked it away in his brain. Refused to let himself look. But still, it crept it up. Like now in the shower. Will squeezed his eyes shut in a feeble attempt to ward off the memories flooding his brain. The mix of arousal with the slightest tinge of fear in Hannibal’s eyes, the way his shirt stretched across his shoulders, perfectly outlining his back muscles, the way his voice broke, ever so slightly, over the word ‘sir'. A shiver ran through Will’s body despite the rising temperature in the bathroom and when he finally opened his eyes he was embarrassed to find his cock, rock hard and ready. “Shit,” Will let out sharply as he ran through a mental roster of the least arousing things he could think of. 

He stepped out into the steam filled bathroom and wrapped a towel around his waist. He exited to the sounds of Zeller and Price in the kitchen having returned from whatever random seminar they considered worthy of date night. Much to Will’s relief, his erection had gone down and he dressed in an old, worn t-shirt and boxer briefs. He thought about grabbing his pair of flannel pajama pants but he could still feel steam from his shower radiating off of him and, besides, Zeller and Price wouldn’t care. He padded into the kitchen, giving a half-hearted wave as he opened the fridge for a beer. 

“Family friction is usually a catalyst for personality development,” Zeller was sitting on the counter pleading his case. 

“And I’m not refuting that. I’m just saying you’re downplaying how birth order factors into it. The more kids, the more friction. Middle children are lousy with personality development,” Price said in the same joking, prodding tone he reserved for Brian. 

“Nah. Middle’s the sweet spot. And you should be nicer to me, I almost invited Freddie tonight.” 

Zeller and Price smiled at each other and Will was amazed at how easy it was for them. They didn’t have to hide their emotions behind anger or intimidation. They just...were. Will felt the slightest bit of heat start to creep up his neck and his thoughts began to fill, once more, with Hannibal. He shook his head sharply to clear them. He was not going down that road again. Not only was the idea of him and Hannibal being, well, anything, let alone what Price and Zeller were, insane, but the last thing he wanted was also to pop a boner in the middle of his kitchen. His friends were chill but not that chill. 

“You know I agree with Brian” Will interjected, in an attempt to occupy his thoughts. “Middle children aren’t the problem, it’s twins.” Will cast a sidelong glance at Price while he took a few sips of his beer. 

“HA! That’s the kind of roomie solidarity I like to see!” 

“Both of you are absolute children and should really— ” Before he could get started in earnest, Price’s monologue was interrupted by a knock on the door. 

“You expecting someone?” Brian asked Will. 

Will knitted his eyebrows and shook his head as he crossed the kitchen towards the front door. He didn’t bother to check the peephole so he couldn’t hide his shock when he opened the door to find Hannibal, in one of those goddamn three-piece suits, staring back at him. 

“Hello, Will. May I come in?” 

This man was going to be the death of him. 

* * *

“Um,” Will took a stilted half step backward and looked around the living room. “Uh. Sure?” 

He stepped back fully opening the door wide enough for Hannibal to step through. Hannibal surveyed the space that, if pressed, he’d refer to as ‘humble.’ The furniture was bare-boned and practical, yet clearly well made. Nothing from a big box store, but rather something built to last. By Will? He wondered. The coffee table was particularly beautiful...maple? Or perhaps oak? Either way something sturdy. Hannibal took it all in, smiling slightly to himself.  Hannibal had been unaware that Will had a roommate, but the clash of styles and interests here and there made that evident: tackle box on the floor next to a mess of gaming console cables, a framed poster of some shitty 80’s mob film above a bar cart — again, impeccably built — with a frankly, impressive whiskey collection. 

Hannibal’s eyes made a final sweep across the room before landing on Will standing awkwardly in front of him. A smile pulled at the corner of his mouth as brought his gaze down the length of Will’s frame, taking in every inch of him. His broad shoulders, his delicate yet powerful hands, his toned legs...all of it a blessing. Will felt that now all to familiar heat creep up his neck under Hannibal’s gaze and he somewhat regretted not grabbing those pajama pants now. But this was his house. He was in control here and he already knew what power he wielded with Hannibal. His tactic of ignoring Hannibal until he went away didn’t exactly, well, work, given his presence in his living room, but it would take more than an uninvited guest to shake Will. Just as Will squared his shoulders to speak, Zeller walked into the room. 

“Hey who was at the — “ Zeller stopped short seeing the two men standing face to face. “Oh! You good, Will?” 

“I’m fine, Brian. Thank you.” They hadn’t broken eye contact. 

“Oh..kay. Well if you need me, Jimmy and I’ll just be in my room.” 

“Okay.” Will’s voice was eerily calm and neither he nor Hannibal had moved an inch. 

Zeller walked backward out of the room looking back and forth between the men. Will had mentioned they had sex but didn’t elaborate. There was obvious tension there, but he couldn’t tell if they still hated each other or just what they’d done. Either way, he wasn’t going to stick around to find out. Will waited until he heard Brian’s door close before he spoke. 

“What do you want, Hannibal?” 

“Bypassing the pleasantries, I see.” Hannibal made the first move and clasped his hands behind his back as he crossed to the bar cart he was admiring moments earlier. He ran a finger along the surface, making a show of brushing off the negligible amount of dust that had accumulated on it. He raised an eyebrow at Will. “Your home is...quaint.” 

Will cleared his throat and asked again. “What do you want?” 

Hannibal made for the bookshelf on the other side of the room, grabbed one of the texts, and began thumbing through it. 

Will walked towards Hannibal as he spoke. “I don’t recall mentioning you could look through my belongings. Now I’d appreciate it if you’d tell me what the fuck it is you’re doing here.” Will punctuated his sentence by reaching his right arm over to yank the book from Hannibal’s hands. Seizing the opportunity, Hannibal grabbed Will’s wrist and pulled. Stepping back, he pulled Will around until they were face to face, Will’s shoulder blades pressing into the shelf behind him. Hannibal brought his hands up to rest on Will’s shoulders. 

“I was hoping to invite you to dinner.” 

Will scoffed, actually properly scoffed, in response. “No.” 

Hannibal’s head reared back as if he’d been smacked. “No?” 

Will shrugged Hannibal’s hands off his shoulders and pushed past him.

“No. We don’t do this, Hannibal. Have dinner. We talk when we have to, we work together when we have to. What happened between us was nothing.”  Will reminded himself that he was in control.

Hannibal wasn’t backing down and moved to the couch. “I can assure you it’s just dinner. I’m not suggesting we “do” anything.” He made eye contact as he sat. “ Just a meal among acquaintances.”

“How did you find my address?” Will approached the couch. He was putting an end to this. 

“I beg your pardon?” 

“How did you find my address? I didn’t give it to you, so how did you find me?” Will straddled Hannibal’s legs and reached out confidently to run his thumb along Hannibal’s bottom lip. “Are you stalking me, Lecter?” 

Will had regained control. Hannibal didn’t get to come into his house, touch his things, demand dinner. This was not their agreement, insofar as they had one. Hannibal liked to be controlled? Challenged? Fine. Will could do that. Hannibal had met his match. Will had met his. Both were a long way off from admitting it, and maybe they never would, but at the very least they’d found something that worked. They both knew what they wanted and they both knew what this was. Hannibal invited him to dinner, but it wasn’t about that. They’d made an agreement that day in the library and Will had reneged on it. By showing up tonight Hannibal had thrown down the gauntlet and Will was more than willing to rise to the challenge. The two men locked eyes.

“Stalking is a rather harsh word, don’t you find?”

“I’d say it’s a fair assumption. You show up at my home, unannounced, when I know for a fact none of our conversations included such personal information.”

“I’d say our conversations were rather personal.”

Will surged forward and braced himself on the back of the couch with his left arm. Hannibal pressed his back into the couch as Will crowded him and dropped his gaze, in slight shock over the intrusion. Will’s right hand gripped Hannibal’s chin. Hard. “Answer me.”

Hannibal’s eyes lit up at the sight of Will like this. Commanding. Forceful. A smirk played at the corner of his mouth.

“Admissions Office. Secretary was easy enough to sweet talk. A well-placed darling or two and before you know I had exactly what I needed.”

Will relaxed then. Releasing Hannibal, he stood upright and walked over to the bar. Grabbing a well-loved bottle and a single glass, he spoke with an air of boredom in his voice while he poured. “Dinner, you said? You’re going to cook for me.”

Hannibal steadied his breathing and his eyes scanned Will’s body trying to commit every angle and curve to memory. “That was the intention, yes. Friday. Eight o’clock.”

“And am I expected to find my own secretary to flirt with?”

“I’ve written my address down for you. Here.” Hannibal pulled a small piece of paper from his pants pocket and extended it towards Will. When Will said nothing and made no movement except to sip from his glass, Hannibal set it down on the coffee table in front of him.

“Goodbye, Hannibal.”

“Goodnight Will.”

Hannibal stood up and brushed the few wrinkles starting to form out of his clothes before they could set in earnest. He walked silently towards the door, hyper-aware of Will’s eyes on him the entire time. It felt like the stare could burn a hole through his clothing and Hannibal was eager to be held under that gaze again, writhing, begging, and performing. It was only when the door shut behind him that he realized Will had never given him an actual answer, but something told Hannibal to stop by the butchers on the way home anyway.

* * *

 

Hannibal tied an apron around his waist and sharpened his favorite knife, a perilously-thin 9-inch hammered Gyuto, on the sharpening stone. He hummed some pretentious aria while he worked, excitement coursing through his veins. 

He started on the base of the sage berry plum sauce, which would provide a fruity, slightly floral accompaniment to the foie gras, stirring sugar, water, and grated orange peel into a pot of fresh cranberries. While that reduced, he diced a few fresh plums and prunes with the precision of a Michelin-starred chef and tossed them into the pot along with a small handful of sage leaves. Potatoes steamed in a donabe as he sliced the lobe of foie into ½ inch thick slices. He’d just finished dredging them in flour and placing them in the fridge to rest when the doorbell rang. 

* * *

“Good evening, Will. Do come in.” Hannibal opened the door in one fluid motion. 

“Hi. Thank you.” Will stepped through the doorway cautiously and looked around. Hannibal’s home was...expansive. Far more expansive than Will was anticipating, not just for a grad student, but for anyone. Hannibal obviously had wealth, his suits were a testament to that, but this was unreal. 

“Your home is…” Will was at a loss for words as he stood in a foyer with square footage that rivaled his entire apartment’s.

“Thank you. It was left to me by my uncle. He raised me from when I was 16. Wonderful man. May I take your coat?” 

“Oh! Uh, sure.” Will shrugged off his coat and took the opportunity to try and shake off his nerves. In his house or the library, it was different; it was easier for Will to hone and wield his control, but here he felt out of his depth. Will wasn’t exactly a man of taste and he would never in his life describe himself as distinguished. Here, in Hannibal’s home, where wealth was clearly and confidently on display, he felt a sense of unease. He tried to remind himself that Hannibal had invited him here for a reason. Their relationship a never-ending power struggle. By obscuring the obscene amount of wealth he possessed and forcing Will to talk in blind, Hannibal had made the first move tonight. Now it was Will’s turn. 

Hannibal finished hanging Will’s coat in the closet. “The kitchen is just through here.” 

Will followed silently and stepped into a kitchen just as opulent and sophisticated as the room before. 

“What’s on the menu?” Will asked standing at the edge of the counter while Hannibal reclaimed his place in front of the gas cooktop. 

Hannibal cut the venison as he spoke. “Venison and seared foie gras with steamed potatoes and a sage plum sauce to dress it. I’m just finishing up; it shouldn’t be long. Would you like some wine? There’s a bottle of Château du Bourgneuf pinot noir on the counter just there.” 

Will grabbed the bottle of wine and the corkscrew next to it. “I hope you didn’t go through too much trouble for me.” There was a slight mocking in his tone. 

“No trouble at all.” Hannibal poured a bit of oil into the saute pan and set it over medium-high heat. Will reached across the counter to hand him one of the two glasses of wine he’d poured. They leveled their eyes at one another while they clinked their glasses together. 

“Cheers,” they said simultaneously. 

Hannibal inspected his glass and hummed appreciatively before setting it down. “Do you like it?” 

“Admittedly, I’m not much of a wine drinker, but this is among the better that I’ve had,” said Will. 

Hannibal placed the venison pieces in the oil and they sizzled immediately. “Would you be so kind as to grab the foie from the fridge? On the gold-trimmed plate. Oh, and stir the sauce, wouldn’t want it to form a skin.” 

“And here I thought I’d be the one giving orders tonight,” Will said as he turned to the fridge. 

A chill ran through Hannibal’s body; steeling himself, he responded “Wonderful. You brought dessert.”

* * *

They sat in silence at opposite ends of the table. Silverware clinked together and each man occasionally glanced up at the other. When they made eye contact the third time, Hannibal spoke. 

“Enjoying your meal?” 

“It’s delicious. Though I would have been just as satisfied with a meal in my tax bracket.” 

Hannibal chuckled slightly. “I don’t believe one needs a special occasion to indulge in a luxurious meal. In fact, good company is occasion enough.” 

“Mmm. Well...this has all been very generous of you. I hope to repay that generosity.” Will took another drink from his glass. “I would, however, like to discuss terms.” 

"Terms?” 

"Yes. Terms." 

“I see. Shall we retire to the great room to discuss it further?” Hannibal didn’t wait for a response, but stood and started clearing their plates. Will poured himself another glass of wine and retreated to the great room. He heard the sound of dishes being rinsed and made himself comfortable, wandering from shelf to shelf, inspecting the items on them closely as Hannibal had done at his place two nights before. He was turning what looked to be a Japanese puzzle box over in his hands, his back to the entrance when Hannibal entered the room. 

“Find something you like?” 

“I figured you wouldn’t mind if I looked through your things; you acclimated quickly to my space and I thought I'd do the same.” Will set the box down and turned to face Hannibal who stood in front of the couch, hands clasped together in a put upon display of apathy. “Now. The terms.” 

“If I may interject, this all seems terribly formal, Will.” 

“And you’re a man that appreciates a certain level of formality.” Will took confident strides across the room, making quick work of closing the distance between them. He grabbed Hannibal’s wine glass and set it down on the small side table. “What happened in the library...you enjoyed that?” 

“Yes.” 

Will raised an eyebrow at him and drank from his glass.  

“And you’d like for me to do it again?” 

“Yes.” 

“What is it, exactly, that you’d like me to do?” 

Hannibal shifted his weight from side to side in an uncharacteristic display of nervousness. “I...I thought you deciding was the entire intention of this,” he swallowed the lump in his throat, “arrangement.” 

Will stepped closer, closing what little space remained between the two of them. “I asked you to tell me what you want...I didn’t say I’d do it.” 

A shudder ran through Hannibal. Articulating his desires like this was embarrassing. He’d already admitted so much, given in to so much. And here Will was asking him to do so again. It was a foreign feeling, this loss of control, but it wasn’t really a loss, was it? Sure, Will decided how Hannibal came undone but, Will here now, asking Hannibal to state what he wanted so plainly, indicated it was ultimately up to him when it happened again or if it happened at all. It was complicated and calling their interactions “friendly” was a stretch, but whatever they were doing was working.

“Tell me what you want, Hannibal.”

Will’s gaze was controlled but open. He wasn’t just asking Hannibal to give up control, he was doing it too. They were both out of their depth and if they were going to drown, they were going to drown together. Hannibal had already given in to so much and here, with Will looking at him like this, he realized he was prepared to do so again and again and again. 

Hannibal steadied his breathing. “I want...I want to feel you. All of you. I want to come undone around you. Because of you.” 

Will moved suddenly, grabbing the back of Hannibal’s neck and pulling him in for a kiss. His left hand, still holding the wine glass, somehow managed to find the table next to them and avoid sending glass crashing to the floor.  Will sucked the air from Hannibal’s lungs while a hand pulled at his shirt. Will smiled into the kiss as he thought about the wrinkles that would unnerve Hannibal later. He broke their kiss just as quickly as he started it and held his lips just out of reach of Hannibal’s as he spoke. “Take off your clothes. Now.” 

Backing away, Will kicked his shoes off and made quick work of his pants. He started on his shirt buttons with equal fervor and bent down to pull off his socks, but when he stood up, he made a point to leave his boxer briefs on. He hadn’t been oblivious to the effect they’d had on Hannibal days before and wanted to keep their little game going. He looked up through hooded lids and Hannibal was frozen in place. He managed to get his loafers and socks off — and placed them neatly the side, Will noted— but his pants were only halfway down his thighs. Hannibal felt like a teenager, giddy that someone even wanted to take their clothes off in front of him at all and a feeling of embarrassment once again rose up in his chest. 

“Problem?” Will cocked his head to the side, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. 

“No. You’re just,” his eyes swept the length of Will’s body, “beautiful.” 

He leveled his eyes at Will on the last word and the walls closed in. The admission made Will feel too hot, the room too small. This was suddenly very real and Will didn’t know what to do. He felt overwhelmed in a way he hadn't anticipated. He couldn’t get a handle on his emotions and he didn’t care. He could deal with his feelings later. He  _ would  _ deal with his feelings later. All he knew right now was that he didn’t want to stop.

In one swift movement, he re-closed the short distance between them and pulled Hannibal in by the shirt collar, crashing their lips together. He held Hannibal flush against him as he plunged his tongue into Hannibal’s mouth. Hannibal ran his hands all over Will’s body and the touch felt like jolts of electricity on his skin. They kissed each other hungrily and a shiver ran through Will’s body when he felt a low growl rise up in the back of Hannibal’s throat. Breaking the kiss Will spoke again, “I told you to take off your clothes.” 

Hannibal tried to catch his breath but his words still caught in his throat, “Will I be afforded the same courtesy?” Hannibal slipped a few fingers under the waistband of Will’s underwear, but before he could move them an inch strong hands grabbed his wrists. Will brought his lips to Hannibal’s ear, rising on his toes to make up for the small differences in their height. “Patience.” Will rocked his hips forward and smiled when he felt Hannibal already hard against him. “That is...assuming you can wait.” 

Hannibal twisted his wrist free from Will’s grip in order to flatten a palm against Will’s equally hard length. “Or you.” 

Will leaned in for another kiss but before he could Hannibal grabbed the back of Will’s neck to press their foreheads together and spoke quickly, “Third shelf from the bottom, across from the piano.” He released Will quickly, hyper-focused now on his task of undressing. Will stumbled slightly but regained his footing and made a beeline for the shelf. He retrieved a small bottle from the spot Hannibal indicated and couldn’t stifle the laugh that rose up in his chest. “You hid a bottle of lube in here?” 

“You’re not quite as unpredictable as you may think, Will.” 

“On the ground.”  Will damn near ran towards Hannibal who immediately got down on all fours, his hands and knees cushioned by an Italian rug that undoubtedly cost most than Will’s rent.

“No, on your back. I want to look at you this time.”

Hannibal’s mind went blank at the command, but Will’s strong, sure hands led him easily. Will dripped some lube onto two fingers and, without hesitating, pushed steadily into Hannibal who gasped at the intrusion. Will used his left hand to spread Hannibal’s legs wider as he set a steady, yet teasing pace. Hannibal was impossibly tight around him and he felt his cock grow even harder at the thought of sinking into him. 

“God, Hannibal. You’re amazing. You’re so good for me. You’re doing so well; look at you.” Will couldn’t stop the flood of praise spilling from his lips. Hannibal ground down on Will’s hand at the words and choked on a moan when that caused Will’s fingers to brush against his prostate.

Will didn’t let up and added a third finger as he kept working Hannibal open. Every now and then he’d crook his fingers slightly to drag them over Hannibal’s prostate again. Hannibal’s breathing was coming faster now, and he was increasingly aware of how close he was to coming. But he couldn’t come, he wouldn’t. Not yet. Will’s eyes were dark with arousal and he leaned forward to press a kiss to Hannibal’s jaw. “Look at how good you are.”

Hannibal moaned once again at the praise. “Will, please. I need to feel you. Please.”

Will removed his fingers and quickly stood to remove his boxers, providing a long-awaited release for his cock. Hannibal grabbed a cushion from the couch and, clinging to what little bit of formality remained, felt the need to explain, “I need to elevate my hips since we seem incapable of making it into an actual bed.” He situated the pillow under himself and Will grabbed him by the knees to pull him closer and usher him along.

Will ran the head of his cock across Hannibal’s hole a few times.

“Will,” Hannibal said in a stilted tone.

Smirking, Will pushed in gradually until their hips were flush against one another. The tip of his cock pressed insistently on Hannibal’s prostate and he almost came right there. “Move,” he managed to get out and Will rocked slowly into him, barely pulling out. He kept at it, hitting that spot inside every time. Neither man could control their breathing. Will began to speed up, going faster and deeper with every thrust. Hannibal shifted his hips down to meet Will’s and grabbed for whatever part of him he could. Will took the hint and released Hannibal’s knees, bringing his arms forward to cradle Hannibal’s head. The move wasn’t big, but it was just enough to change the angle at which Will made contact with Hannibal’s prostate and he nearly screamed at the change in sensation. He was peaking, they both were.

“Will.”

“I’ve got you.” 

And that was it. Hannibal’s body felt like it was closing in on itself as his cock pumped his release between the two men. Will’s own orgasm wasn’t far behind and he came hard, leaving Hannibal feeling overstimulated and overwhelmed. Will fucked through both of their aftershocks, their labored breathing filling the large room.

When both men finally stilled, Will pulled out of and retreated to the kitchen. Hannibal laid on the floor in a heap of exhaustion and jumped slightly when he felt a warm, damp towel brush across his chest. He opened his eyes to see Will focused on the task of cleaning him up. Will stood again to put his briefs and his button up back on. Hannibal, having regained enough strength to sit up, watched in slight confusion as Will walked to grab Hannibal’s clothes from their pile on the floor. 

Hannibal thought back to a month ago, how different that was from now. He’d taken a risk by inviting Will to his house. It was a blatant show of vulnerability. Trust. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t still worried, even now, that he’d miscalculated, but when Will turned back to face him with a look of pure adoration in his eyes Hannibal realized that the pair would never ignore each other again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still amazed that anyone wanted a second chapter of this but here it is. It went in a different direction from what I originally intended (and kind of wraps up too quickly for my tastes so I may add more) but hopefully, it still delivers! The recipe belongs to the incomparable Janice Poon. 
> 
> xx

**Author's Note:**

> For Sully1010, my little birthday baby!!! I got you porn. Hope that's okay. <3 <3
> 
>  
> 
> As ever, I have zero excuses for my actions and all the subtlety of a brick to the face. Also, I got a book club degree so don’t yell at me about my incomplete psychology knowledge; my therapist won’t be my beta reader. 
> 
> Comments, kudos, etc. appreciated


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